


Your birthday, your rules

by Calire



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Birthday, Fluff, M/M, Romance, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-29
Updated: 2013-04-29
Packaged: 2017-12-09 22:50:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/778864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calire/pseuds/Calire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Greg bought the tickets for the opening night of "La Traviata" he wasn’t expecting the half of what that night would entail.<br/>He assumed he would suffer through a fair amount of boredom for an extended period of time to be rewarded with sex for his sacrifice. He imagined he would have to put on his best suit, maybe buy a new pair of shoes and a tie.<br/>What he hadn't considered was the absolute obsession Mycroft had with the dress code and the more than strict dress code required by a night at the opera. Worse than that, by a opening night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your birthday, your rules

**Author's Note:**

> Written for miljathefailcat in the April Showers Mystrade Exchange.  
> Thanks go to my amazing fiancé for beta reading it :D

When Greg bought the tickets for the opening night of "La Traviata" he wasn’t expecting the half of what that night would entail.  
He assumed he would suffer through a fair amount of boredom for an extended period of time to be rewarded with sex for his sacrifice. He imagined he would have to put on his best suit, maybe buy a new pair of shoes and a tie.  
What he hadn't considered was the absolute obsession Mycroft had with the dress code and the more than strict dress code required by a night at the opera. Worse than that, by a opening night.  
"How kind of you, pretending you're sleeping just so that I can actually bring you breakfast in bed." Greg teased, putting down the bed tray and sitting at the edge of the bed as his husband quit the act and smiled slightly.  
Mycroft slid up and sat with his back against the headboard "You actually woke up one hour and a half earlier just to make this breakfast, it would have been deeply impolite of me waking up before you got the chance to serve it with all the right manners." he tugged gently at his hand, his smile growing "I do believe a kiss is appreciated in this kind of occasion?"  
The detective inspector grinned as he leaned forward and sealed their lips quickly in a soft kiss, his hand cupping Mycroft's cheek as his thumb brushed gently the sharp cheekbone. He pulled back after a reasonable time and smiled even wider "Happy birthday, Mycroft." he whispered, just inches away from his face.  
"Thank you, dear." he replied, caressing the hand that lay beside his own on the bed. Eventually he took in the view of what was on the tray: his favourite tea, Italian pastries from Antonio's bakery with a birthday candle on a small strawberry pie and a small envelope with his name on it. "It isn't a pen this time I guess, is it?" he asked with a a small smirk, although the thought that for them to celebrate his birthday together again had taken twenty-two years still clouded his heart.  
Greg eyed the gift with a soft smile and shook his head "No, it definitely isn't. Go on, open it." he encouraged quietly, eager to know if he would appreciate it.  
Mycroft exchanged a look with his partner and took the envelope, turning it in his hands before putting it away again with a teasing grin "Later. Tea first." he declared just as a chuckle escaped his lips at the involuntary pout on Greg's face. To make up for his little joke he patted the empty spot beside him and waited for Greg to join him.  
The older man snuggled up under the blankets quickly and rested his head on his companion's shoulder, pecking his neck almost ticklishly as he watched the thin and perfectly manicured hand take the china delicately and bring it to those full lips. "Is the tea fine?" he asked a tad unsure, he wasn't used to actually make tea anymore. He had betrayed it for coffee. But for that cup he had looked up the right infusion time and took the water temperature with a thermometer, just to stay on the safe side.  
"Perfect." he uttered, putting the saucer down and running his free hand in the DI's hair before draping an arm around his broad shoulders. He just lost himself in the familiar taste and put down the cup only when it was half empty. He rested a kiss in the silver hair and when Greg's proud smile met his eyes he closed the distance and kissed him again without a word. They never needed much talking, they simply needed each other.  
As they broke the kiss Greg straightened up and handed Mycroft the letter, unable to wait further. "Open it. Now." he urged and his lover eventually capitulated taking the envelope and pulling out two pieces of paper from it while still keeping their eyes locked together.  
When he eventually looked down and his eyes grew wide the DI knew he had successfully accomplished surprising a Holmes. And that was quite a victory indeed.  
Mycroft turned the tickets in his hands and read them over and over a few times “It was the one you wanted to see then, wasn’t it? When we were boys...” his lover’s voice reached him, waking him from the stunned reverie “Yes. Yes indeed. Are you sure about this, Gregory?” he asked tentatively, searching his face for any trace of doubt.  
“It’s your birthday, My. And even though I might get a little bored I want to give you something special. Something meaningful.” the other man confessed quietly with a sincere smile, pecking his cheek.  
The younger man returned the kiss and put away the tickets in his nightstand drawer "Want to help me finish this astonishing breakfast while I start planning the compulsory shopping?" he suggested, taking a small pastry and bringing it up to Greg's lips. He bit into it, leaving the other half for Mycroft, while nodding "I guess I could use a new pair of shoes for the occasion."  
The chuckle resounding in the government official's throat didn't promise any good "Oh, you'll need much more than a pair of shoes, love. We can't go to an opening in less than a tuxedo." Greg sat up, eyebrows raising "Can't I just wear the black suit?"  
Mycroft pursed his lips, putting down the empty cup "I assume you're talking of the black suit you wore at my brother's funeral. Not a chance."  
The older man tried the pity strategy, slumping back in the pillows "I don't wear a tuxedo since I married my wife! I have bad memories attached to it."  
"We'll make sure to override those." Mycroft smirked as he bent down to kiss him.  
The DI couldn't deny the warm feel in his stomach that words gave him so that when the other man straightened up again he sighed "Fine. Your birthday, your rules."  
"Perfect. We have so little time... I'll free your afternoon tomorrow."  
Greg decided he didn't want to know why was a whole week "little time" and simply rolled over to rest his head in Mycroft's lap.

The shop was old but obviously well kept, the wood shelves that reached the ceiling were stocked with much more shades of fabric Greg had ever actually seen. It was a fascinating place, like it was coming to life out of an old painting, a bit of Victorian era in the 21st century. Mycroft crossed to the counter with a confident stride leading the way for the other man and ringing the bell for a clerk “My family has always come here, I’m quite sure I bought here all of the suits I own. Mr. Lansley is as competent as his father was, I’m sure you’ll look dashing and you won’t even dream to wear that polyester suit again.”  
“We’re here, Mycroft. You don’t have to convince me further.” the silver haired man replied, stuffing his hand in his pockets as they waited. He was nervous, he hadn’t tried on a custom made suit since his wedding and even then it was anything like the place he was now.  
A dark haired man in a light grey suit walked over to the counter from the adjoining room with a polite smile “Mr. Holmes, what a pleasure having you here. What can we do for you?” he greeted although he took in both men.  
“Mr. Lansley, the pleasure is mine. I’d like to introduce you DI Lestrade and I need you to find him a tuxedo.”  
Greg shook the hand he was offered and bowed his head slightly as the man nodded smiling widely “Of course. Nice to meet you, Mr. Lestrade, we’ll find everything you need. I’m sure of it. Any special requests?” the DI looked over to his partner, relatively lost.  
Mycroft jumped in promptly “Not really. The occasion is a night at the opera, an opening night actually. One request is necessary though: we need it ready for Friday night.” the man’s gaze jumped discreetly between the two of them and it seemed like he mostly caught on the situation.  
Mr Lansley nodded and led them through a small door to the next room, slightly bigger than the previous one, suits hanging in tidy rows on the sides while the centre of the room was taken by a circular platform surrounded by mirrors “Could you take off your coat, Mr Lestrade? You can hang it behind the door.”  
Greg acted without questioning and stood as the man took briefly his measures just looking at him, he started sifting through the black tuxedos and the police officer felt the comforting weight of Mycroft’s hand on his shoulder and relaxed slightly.  
Ten minutes later he got out of the changing room with the white shirt and the black trousers, he had definitely never wore something like that, even without the necessary sewing he felt the difference with everything else he had in his wardrobe.  
The owner gave him a pair of shoes and instructed him to climb on the platform “Let’s start with the shirt and trousers that need adjusting, shall we?” he smiled and started walking swiftly with a dexterity that spoke volumes about his experience “Mr Holmes, Mr. Lestrade if you’d like anything different from what I’m doing don’t hesitate to tell me.”  
Greg shrugged, earning his companion tutting at him “Stay still, you don’t want pins making you bleed, do you?” before he turned to the tailor “I trust you. Anyway it seems already promising doesn’t it?”  
“Very. You should wear tailored clothes more often Detective Inspector.”  
Greg shifted on the spot trying to force his stomach to stop knotting at the thought that this dress might cost more than what he earns in a month.  
“Do relax, Gregory. It’s not a death sentence.” Mycroft reassured him, smoothing the shoulders of his shirt as the tailor worked to the trousers.  
Mr Lansley helped him in the waistcoat and fitted it quickly letting Mycroft ease him into the jacket. It was beautiful and even with the too long sleeves and the slightly wide shoulders he couldn’t stop staring at his reflection. He was so different he almost couldn’t find himself in there. And he felt good. He felt powerful even if a tad uncomfortable. It came natural for him to straighten up his shoulders and shift to have a better look. He understood why Mycroft always dressed like that now.  
The younger man was beaming, well as much as he would in public, behind him “Not so adverse to it now, are you?”  
“Not at all, I must say.” Greg couldn’t help but grin at him as he looked so proud that this afternoon would obviously count as birthday gift as much as the opening night itself.  
They left half an hour later with just his shoes because both Mycroft and Mr Lansley insisted on him wearing them at home for a while before Friday night so that his feet wouldn’t suffer the new, stiff leather.  
“What are we doing now?” the older man asked as they walked down the road to the car waiting for them.  
“Well, we have a whole free evening, not something that happens so often. What about going out to dinner?” he offered, stopping out of the car.  
Greg shrugged, an unconvinced look on his features “You never let me be cheesy or even kiss you properly when we go out for dinner. And if something happens somewhere in the world it’s not nice to finish the meal on my own... what about we go home and order Chinese instead?”  
Mycroft leaned on his umbrella, thoughtful “Your objections do make sense. But no Chinese. Italian?” he countered.  
“It’s a deal. But we’re watching telly and picking on people afterwards.” the older man bargained.  
He sighed and rolled his eyes but didn’t protest, simply keeping the car door open for him.

Mycroft climbed out of the car first, straightening his coat as he waited for Greg. They walked confidently up the marble stairs and stopped just outside to greet an elderly couple.  
"Louise, Anthony. How nice to meet you here." the younger man nodded to them, shaking hand with the other man and politely bringing the woman's hand an inch from his lips. "May I introduce you Detective Inspector Lestrade? Gregory, meet Mr and Mrs Jameson. Mr Jameson was my father's associate."  
Greg shook hand with both of them "A pleasure to meet you."  
"Mycroft, how lovely having you with us. So long since I saw you, your analysis is always spot on." Louise said quietly, her crinkly eyes lighting up.  
Mycroft sighed "I'm a terrible workaholic. Gregory gifted me with the tickets or I wouldn't have been here tonight either." he shifted a bit closer to Greg with a gentle smile on his lips.  
The woman smiled widely at him "Oh, then thank you very much, Detective Inspector." then she turned gravely to the younger man "I'm so sorry for your brother, such a gifted musician he was." her husband jumped in "Always said it was a shame that he didn't pursue that career."  
Mycroft bowed his head "I know, he should have." he confirmed, not adding anything else. When the silence stretched between them for more than a second he added "We'll start going in, I want to show Gregory the theater."  
"Of course, dear. I hope we'll be able to chat again during the intermission." the woman smiled fondly at them as they walked away.  
"Fine. Now take this conversation and repeat it for the number of times necessary to fill the time for the performance." Mycroft warned under his breath while they took off their coats and left them at the wardrobe.  
Greg sighed "I guess I had to expect this. And anyway I’m content with just staring at you, you look amazing tonight.”  
The other man pushed him lightly “Don’t exaggerate. It’s you who looks perfect tonight. Happy with your tuxedo?”  
A grin lit the detective’s face “Definitely, but I’ll never bear it like you do. As much as I felt good in it in front of our mirror now I feel more like a penguin every second that goes by.” his expression became more sheepish and Mycroft couldn’t help but slide a hand down his back affectionately “I can assure you that you’re doing very well for your first night at the opera, love.”  
“If you say so. I think someone there wants to say hi.” he nodded at a man that was walking towards them and Mycroft quickly regained his usual polite expression.  
With all the people the eldest Holmes knew it took them almost twenty minutes to reach their seats and even there they were stopped a couple of times. Mycroft had been right, every greeting was a dull and almost identical repeat of what had happened with the Jamesons. Greg knew in such occasions meeting people was almost as important as watching the actual performance, but he was getting incredibly bored and felt a bit like nothing more than an appendix to his partner’s side.  
As they sat down Mycroft sensed the discomfort and squeezed his hand gently, giving him a soft smile “The greeting is over, now there will be the performance and during the two intermissions we can have a drink without being bothered. I hope you’re not too uncomfortable, dear.”  
“It’s okay, love. But I’m thankful I forcefully refused your invitation twenty years ago, I’d have killed myself by now. And so would have Clara although she might have been subtler about it.” he chuckled lightly, relaxing in the seat as much as the situation allowed.  
The younger man shook his head with a slight grin “You did have a sharper foresight back then. Did you read the libretto I gave you?” he asked, adjusting the midnight blue bowtie.  
Greg bit his lip sheepishly “Not really, but I’ve read the summary on Wikipedia this morning.”  
“You are terribly lazy for a detective.” Mycroft tutted, crossing his legs to get more comfortable in the deep red seats, but his eyes were alight with amusement.  
The police officer brushed his thumb on the palm of his hand lightly, laughing “I’m a very busy man. And I’m terrible at this kind of things so do appreciate the effort.”  
“I do. I appreciate it immensely, Gregory.” he looked into his eyes with a warm glow and got so far as to entwine their hands on the shared armrest just a few moments before the lights dimmed and the orchestra got ready for the overture.

When the whole thing was over Greg sprang to his feet in the blink of an eye only to be remembered of how big his mistake had been. The damn shoes had been killing him since the first intermission and in his opinion he now was able to relate to every woman who ever wore heels. The leather was stiff and gnawing at his feet even through the lisle socks. Why couldn’t he have listened to someone who knew better for once?  
Mycroft steadied him swiftly holding him by the elbow and sighed “We’ll be in the car soon, Gregory. Try and keep an appropriate bearing.”  
“Stop talking with just one bloody guy in a starched suit and I’ll kill you.” the elder man threatened under his breath as they walked down the row of seats and into the corridor with the rest of the audience.  
His answer was a light chuckle “Oh my dear, you know I’d like to see you try.”

In the car the police officer didn’t lose a minute getting his shoes off and massagging his feet, letting out a relieved sigh “I’ll go to work in slippers for a week, I swear.”. As he said so he relaxed against the younger man who wrapped an arm around his shoulders and kissed his hair “You’ll be perfectly fine by tomorrow morning, don’t be so dramatic.”  
Greg tilted his head just enough to kiss his neck gently “Did you like your gift?”  
Mycroft cupped his cheek and drew him up at his level “Very much, Gregory. I couldn’t have come up with something so perfect myself.” he whispered before kissing him and then slowly pulling back and resting their foreheads together.  
“I do have an idea for a perfect ending to this night though, you know? An idea that involves me stripping you out of that tuxedo for a starter. Do you want to hear about it?” the elder man offered with a smirk and a husky voice.  
A small chuckle escaped Mycroft’s lips and he smirked back “Definitely. And I must confess I had a very similar idea. Do I get to act on it first since I’m the birthday boy?”  
“Your birthday, your rules.”


End file.
